Elegy - To a Melon

Does life begin
When you're spat out
Dried and put in
A paper envelope?
Or when you're planted out,
And sprout?
You grew little
On the brittle grass,
A brown patch under you.
A tragedy, you heard,
And you replied,
O but i have not died.
O melon!
You met your fate,
And now you have been ate.
Last night the moon
Was 24 per cent
Of melancholy.